


a playlist of their own

by ohimonfire



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: AU, Modern, collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 03:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2636549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohimonfire/pseuds/ohimonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he wants to fly. or, at the very least, get as close as possible.-— a collection in the modern world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. motorcycle

**a collection.**

* * *

 

**motorcycles.**

Jason Grace wants to learn. He wants to learn how to ride a motorcycle; he wants to fly. Or, at the very least, get as close as possible.

His sister knows— his older, taller, more responsible sister— and when she gets that Jason still doesn't know anything about it, she teases. "Shut up," Jason says, but he isn't that indignant because, hey, he only has Thalia right now.

"Thalia, teach me." He sounds helpless in his head.

She smirks. "Teach you, eh?"

Jason hits her, rather lightly, and maybe he fakes a cough too loudly.

His sister chuckles and laughs, saying, "Okay, I'll teach you."

Jason smiles. It doesn't last long though, because later he'll fall off the motorcycle, fuck himself up. But it's alright; his sister is there to help him up and keep him from plummeting again.


	2. requiem.

His mother dies on a Tuesday. She died in a dank room in a tight house, blinking out the low window to see the crystalline river. She died because someone in the garage forgot to turn of the kerosene lamps, nobody knows who.

Leo thinks that his relatives are idiots.

They're idiots because they didn't go through the wringer. It was too peachy keen for them while his mother suffered in a way she shouldn't have, while they proclaimed the tragedy of her youth— and he tries to tell himself it's not his fault every day. Esperanza Valdez deserved a heavenly afterlife, although he never believed in such a damn fool idea.

The requiem soars and wrings through the air like his mother's voice would if she were here. But it's sad and his dearest mum never sang with such great sorrow.


	3. liar, liar.

"Our parents will come," Bianca said. He'd ask her again, make her promise, pinky promise, that he'd see them again. And she always would.

Then she'd fall asleep, and he'd dig in his backpack for his iPod and earphones. Might have to sell them someday, so he creates playlists and taps his fingers on his jean-clad knees anytime he can. He likes the beat, the rhythm, the lyrics, and especially the solace. A solace of melody for the young kid who never had a mom or dad, who dreams of his parents and his happiest state and a life where he can breathe better along with everyone he had ever loved.

Especially, he smiles, with his big sister. The world was brighter with playlists— now he knows his sister is a liar, a rotten liar. But he knows she only did it to keep him happy, and he thinks that's okay.


End file.
